Mistress Whip Atlanta
02-18-2007, 09:18 PM
STORY 1: LAST 2006 VISIT WITH MS. WHIP
I drove to Atlanta on Saturday morning, Dec. 31, for one last visit with Ms. Whip before the new year. I had an afternoon visit planned at WhipsWorld, the first since I saw Ms. Whip just before Thanksgiving and the second since she left me with a beautiful set of bruises back in October.
Ms. Whip called me en route and ordered me to pick up a salad for her from a nearby grocery store, along with some latex gloves. I did so, hustling as fast as I could in and out of the Publix down the road from 1763.
I arrived at 1763 on time and was ordered into Ms. Whip's private dungeon, where I stripped and showed off my "Property of Ms. Whip" T-shirt that I was wearing under my sweater. I showed Ms. Whip the salad and gloves she ordered, and she gave her approval.After a few minutes of talk catching up, Ms. Whip ordered me to wear my chastity cage, which I usually remove while driving because of the difficulty of sitting in such a crouched position for several hours at once.
I went into the 1763 bathroom and locked myself up, not using baby oil this time. I had used baby oil when installing my cage during my last visit, and the oil made the base ring continually slip off. Ms. Whip had made it clear she wouldn't tolerate a repeat performance of that, so I wisely left the oil at home. I returned to Ms. Whip's dungeon and as always, I let her perform the final act of closing the lock and removing the keys. She dangled the keys and dropped them on a side table before leaning back in her chair and giving me a beautiful, commanding smirk.
Ms. Whip brandished a cane and made it clear the visit wasn't going to be easy. She slapped on a pair of wrist cuffs, encircled my neck with a collar and snapped a leash into place.
I was led through WhipsWorld on the leash, with Ms. Whip pointing out different additions to the dungeon in different rooms. At one point, she showed me a Santa Claus doll one of her assistants had made with a fake rubber penis sticking out of his pants. Very funny. Then Ms. Whip led me into her favorite dungeon, making sure to keep the leash very short and use up all the slack in her hand.
In the blink of an eye, I was wrist-cuffed to an overhead bar and ordered on my toes. I immediately did so (and I was to stay in this position, more or less, for the next hour and a half). Ms. Whip then started working me over with a lightweight whip, ordering me to "turn around" or "bend over" from time to time as she snapped away.
From time to time, Ms. Whip would leave the room for long periods of time to eat her salad or catch up on computer work. I stayed on my toesthe whole time, despite the cramping and aching it would bring.She closed the door each time she left, and that meant I couldn'ttell when she was returning, so I had no choice but to be prepared at any second for her imminent return.
Ms. Whip and I had been discussing my serving her as apersonal slave during an upcoming travel trip, so after a while she brought a pad and pen into the dungeon to make a list of what my duties would be. Over an hour or so -- and several visits in and out of the room -- Ms. Whip and I developed a long list of tasks and chores I would be charged with.
After more than an hour, I had no choice but to ask Ms. Whip for mercy in letting me out of my chastity cage. Without baby oil or lotion to lubricate the base of the ring, the cage starts to chafe and rub uncomfortably pretty intensely. I endured it as long as I could before breaking down and asking for relief. Always an expert at denial, Ms. Whip didn't unlock me at first, but made me beg for her for a while before relenting and unlocking -- but just the tube. She left the base ring on, which was still irritating my skin, but I chose not to complain further. I bit my lip and endured it.
Before I could even anticipate it, I came to a full erection right in front of Ms. Whip. This is a humiliating,exhilirating feeling for a slave, when his mistress is standing right in front of him, taunting him with her closeness, while he is helpless and naked. His vulnerability and humiliation are underscored by the fact that his arousal and attraction for his mistress is made clearly obvious in the form of an erect penis. Ms. Whip put me through such a moment, and I didn't know whether to gasp in relief, cry in humiliation, or both.
Throughout the visit, Ms. Whip had been wearing a tight, black leather top that showed off her beautiful breasts in a "peekaboo" style. She knows I have an intense weakness for breasts, and enjoys using it against me by inviting me to approach her but staying just out of reach. Often, I would try to get close to her only to feel the wrist cuffs pulling the muscles apart in my arms. I would endure it as long as I could, getting as close to her as I could, before she would laugh and push me away.
After two hours, my suffering drew to a close. But not until I had carried all of her toys, equipment, and my travel slave task list back to her private dungeon, where I rubbed her feet as we talked and relaxed.
I lost track of how many times I visited Ms. Whip in 2006 -- it was several -- but she never failed to surprise me with some new torment or punishment. She only becomes more beautiful with time, both inside and out. I hope to continue and improve as her slave in 2007 and beyond, finding new ways to show my devotion to her and deepen my enslavement to her.
JAY
I drove to Atlanta on Saturday morning, Dec. 31, for one last visit with Ms. Whip before the new year. I had an afternoon visit planned at WhipsWorld, the first since I saw Ms. Whip just before Thanksgiving and the second since she left me with a beautiful set of bruises back in October.
Ms. Whip called me en route and ordered me to pick up a salad for her from a nearby grocery store, along with some latex gloves. I did so, hustling as fast as I could in and out of the Publix down the road from 1763.
I arrived at 1763 on time and was ordered into Ms. Whip's private dungeon, where I stripped and showed off my "Property of Ms. Whip" T-shirt that I was wearing under my sweater. I showed Ms. Whip the salad and gloves she ordered, and she gave her approval.After a few minutes of talk catching up, Ms. Whip ordered me to wear my chastity cage, which I usually remove while driving because of the difficulty of sitting in such a crouched position for several hours at once.
I went into the 1763 bathroom and locked myself up, not using baby oil this time. I had used baby oil when installing my cage during my last visit, and the oil made the base ring continually slip off. Ms. Whip had made it clear she wouldn't tolerate a repeat performance of that, so I wisely left the oil at home. I returned to Ms. Whip's dungeon and as always, I let her perform the final act of closing the lock and removing the keys. She dangled the keys and dropped them on a side table before leaning back in her chair and giving me a beautiful, commanding smirk.
Ms. Whip brandished a cane and made it clear the visit wasn't going to be easy. She slapped on a pair of wrist cuffs, encircled my neck with a collar and snapped a leash into place.
I was led through WhipsWorld on the leash, with Ms. Whip pointing out different additions to the dungeon in different rooms. At one point, she showed me a Santa Claus doll one of her assistants had made with a fake rubber penis sticking out of his pants. Very funny. Then Ms. Whip led me into her favorite dungeon, making sure to keep the leash very short and use up all the slack in her hand.
In the blink of an eye, I was wrist-cuffed to an overhead bar and ordered on my toes. I immediately did so (and I was to stay in this position, more or less, for the next hour and a half). Ms. Whip then started working me over with a lightweight whip, ordering me to "turn around" or "bend over" from time to time as she snapped away.
From time to time, Ms. Whip would leave the room for long periods of time to eat her salad or catch up on computer work. I stayed on my toesthe whole time, despite the cramping and aching it would bring.She closed the door each time she left, and that meant I couldn'ttell when she was returning, so I had no choice but to be prepared at any second for her imminent return.
Ms. Whip and I had been discussing my serving her as apersonal slave during an upcoming travel trip, so after a while she brought a pad and pen into the dungeon to make a list of what my duties would be. Over an hour or so -- and several visits in and out of the room -- Ms. Whip and I developed a long list of tasks and chores I would be charged with.
After more than an hour, I had no choice but to ask Ms. Whip for mercy in letting me out of my chastity cage. Without baby oil or lotion to lubricate the base of the ring, the cage starts to chafe and rub uncomfortably pretty intensely. I endured it as long as I could before breaking down and asking for relief. Always an expert at denial, Ms. Whip didn't unlock me at first, but made me beg for her for a while before relenting and unlocking -- but just the tube. She left the base ring on, which was still irritating my skin, but I chose not to complain further. I bit my lip and endured it.
Before I could even anticipate it, I came to a full erection right in front of Ms. Whip. This is a humiliating,exhilirating feeling for a slave, when his mistress is standing right in front of him, taunting him with her closeness, while he is helpless and naked. His vulnerability and humiliation are underscored by the fact that his arousal and attraction for his mistress is made clearly obvious in the form of an erect penis. Ms. Whip put me through such a moment, and I didn't know whether to gasp in relief, cry in humiliation, or both.
Throughout the visit, Ms. Whip had been wearing a tight, black leather top that showed off her beautiful breasts in a "peekaboo" style. She knows I have an intense weakness for breasts, and enjoys using it against me by inviting me to approach her but staying just out of reach. Often, I would try to get close to her only to feel the wrist cuffs pulling the muscles apart in my arms. I would endure it as long as I could, getting as close to her as I could, before she would laugh and push me away.
After two hours, my suffering drew to a close. But not until I had carried all of her toys, equipment, and my travel slave task list back to her private dungeon, where I rubbed her feet as we talked and relaxed.
I lost track of how many times I visited Ms. Whip in 2006 -- it was several -- but she never failed to surprise me with some new torment or punishment. She only becomes more beautiful with time, both inside and out. I hope to continue and improve as her slave in 2007 and beyond, finding new ways to show my devotion to her and deepen my enslavement to her.
JAY